


What Lurks Within

by FantasyOcean



Category: Original Work
Genre: Captive, Fantasy, Futuristic, Magic, Medieval, Multi, Romance, Runaway, Science Fiction, Secret Identity, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29909124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyOcean/pseuds/FantasyOcean
Summary: What Lurks Within is set in a world where towns of old with horse drawn buggies and wooden sail ships cover the land surrounding massive, wealthy futuristic cities with skyrises, androids, and high security, a place reserved for the elite.Hiding in a backwater hamlet, a young woman remains forever on the run, hiding in plain sight behind a carefully crafted mask as she desperately tries to raise the funds to return to her ancestral home, possibly the only place left where she can feel safe and be herself. Because she carries a secret that is still being hunted, and if found, those in power would seek to exploit her for all that she represents. Her life and her future depend on getting back home, if only she can remain hidden long enough to get there, though her clock is rapidly running out and she won't be able to hide for much longer.
Kudos: 1





	1. Barmaid

End of week were the worst days. By the late afternoon, the small pub was filled with the sharp smells of cigar smoke and bacon grease. It hung like a thick cloud in the air strong enough to choke the life out of an untrained soul. Usually, it only got like this by the late evening, if a rougher crowd trickled in. Otherwise, a shift could be bearable. But the end of the week brought in all sorts of folk from the mines and fields intent on drinking away their week’s earnings, drinking and smoking and placing wagers. It turned a normally simple afternoon into a hell of wading through sweaty bodies and avoiding unwanted advances.

It gave her a headache and a stomachache and made her question if it was worth the few extra coins at the end of the night.

The sharp chime of the order bell cut through the chaos at the front bar as the cook – and her boss – smacked down on it and tossed three plates piled high with greasy foods into the window. “Lanna, get these to table seven,” he barked.

It certainly did not feel worth it tonight. With a sigh, she turned and hefted the platters into the air. It was a tight weave through the customers, all crowded around a betting table where they were racing rats. No one bothered to part for her, and she was far from tall or bulky enough to be intimidating, but she managed.

Once the overbearing scents of the dishes – which she barely considered food – and crowds would have made her sick. She’d lost the contents of her gut more than once when she’d first started working there, but she’d built a flimsy tolerance after so long. Still, on the worst of nights, her vision would swim and bile would claw its way up her throat. It was one of those nights.

She forced some semblance of a smile as she reached the table and set the plates out. Three men sat hunched over the table on their stools, and each dug into the meals with barely more than a grunt of acknowledgement.

She was more than happy to take that as her cue to slip away quietly, but as she passed, a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

She twisted to find the owner, another man at another table who was eyeing her in a hungry way that made Lanna shift her weight uneasily. He flashed her a yellowed grin and shoved his free hand through the oiled black locks strewn messily atop his skull. It did him no favours. “Working again, Lanna?” he inquired. “The boys and I are starting to wonder if you ever stop. Maybe you’re one of those fancy robots from way up in the city?”

Lanna swallowed the panic that twisted her gut as she shook her head. He was merely drunk and making poor attempts at conversation. “I hardly work as often as I find you at a stool, Pete,” she countered. He was one of the miners and a regular at the bar. Spent more time downing ale than working in her opinion, but she kept that particular nugget of thought to herself.

Thankfully, the rebuff merely seemed to amuse Pete, whose bark of laughter was loud enough to make her wince. He shook his head as he chuckled. “You should join us, Lanna. Sit, get off your feet a while. Real crime for a pretty thing to be working so hard.”

Lanna shook her head. “It’s a busy night, Pete,” she stated with a gesture around the packed pub.

Pete waved a hand. “Bah, they can manage for a few minutes surely? There’s a tip in it for you,” he insisted as though that would sway her.

She was fairly certain she would choose to gnaw off her own hand first. “I have to get back to work, Pete,” she insisted. She tugged her arm, but his grip only tightened around her wrist. “Let go,” she warned with a growl rising in her throat. She swallowed it back and took a breath. He was drunk and it wasn’t the first time. It was not worth the risk her anger would bring her.

Pete’s grip only tightened further. “Lanna, stop playing coy and join me. I’d hate to have to inform John that his waitress is being rude to his best customers. It would be a real shame to lose a pretty face in this sea of ugly.”

With a scowl, Lanna twisted her wrist and wrenched her arm free from his grasp. She leaned over the table and gathered up the empty beer bottles strewn across the table. Pete and his buddy simply watched her as she stepped back. “I think you’ve had more than enough for one night, Pete. Get home and clear your head. Don’t come back until you have your manners about you,” she hissed.

She strode away before either of them would have a chance to protest. Storming into the kitchen, she dumped the bottles into the trash and clenched her teeth. She took a few deep breaths to quell the rising rage writhing in her gut. It would do no good.

Once she’d gathered her composure, she collected another order and stepped back out into the fray.

As the sun dipped lower and lower in the sky, staining it a dark shade of gray as the moon began to rise, Lanna found herself drained. Pete had remained – though there was no sign of the other man that had been with him – and he’d moved up to the bar directly, meaning she had to dodge him every time she had to deliver to other tables. And he was not the only one who felt more brazen with every swallow downed. It made her sick to her stomach and she was already at a low point with all the bodies crammed into one small space. It was a sensory overload. She was shaking as she finally slipped back into the kitchen to gulp fervently at a glass of water. It was all she was going to have time for tonight.

“Lanna!” John’s voice broke through the haze of routine she’d slipped into and she reluctantly set her glass aside and joined him in the front of house. He was leaned against the bar where Pete was sitting with a smug grin fixed on her. She frowned. A tight ball formed in the pit of her stomach. She could smell trouble brewing between the two.

“You have a problem with Pete tonight, Lanna?”

Lanna sighed and shook her head. “Water under the bridge,” she replied.

John quirked a brow and his scowl deepened. “That’s not what I’ve been hearing. I pay you to deliver food and be pleasant to my customers, Lanna. I didn’t think I’d have to remind you of your duties here.”

“I was merely reminding Pete that he should keep his hands to himself; it is not polite to grab.”

“I don’t pay you to teach etiquette,” John snarled. He slammed a meaty hand down on the bar and glowered at her. “I think you owe Pete an apology.”

She straightened her spine and stuck out her chin. She was not afraid of either of them. “I told you when I started that I would take as many hours as you required and not complain. I also informed you that I was not available and would not tolerate any crude behaviour from any drunkards stumbling around here.”

John scoffed. “You’re not some high lady from the city,” he sneered. “Virtue doesn’t mean a thing around here. Now do what’s right and apologize unless you want me to have to fire you.”

It only took her two seconds to pull the knot on the apron around her waist, and even less for her to fling it at him. “I’ll save you the bother,” she growled. “I quit.”

She turned on her heel and marched back into the back. She grabbed her cloak from the hook near the door and folded it over her arm.

“Don’t be foolish, Lanna,” John ordered as he hurried through the doorway after her. “Where else do you expect to find work, huh? You’re saving, aren’t you? Don’t let your pride jeopardize the best thing you’re going to get.”

“I can do better,” Lanna snapped back. “This job is not worth it.”

She turned around to find him in her way. When she tried to duck around him, he shifted into her way again. “You’re being foolish and emotional,” he warned.

“I said ‘I quit’,” she repeated. “Now move, please.”

“Lanna wait…okay, I’ll send Pete home for the night and we’ll forget your altercation, alright?”

“ _My_ altercation?” She quirked a brow and shook her head. “I’m done. Now move.” She shoved past him and began heading for the door.

“Lanna, you can’t just leave in the middle of the shift! I-I won’t pay you.”

“Keep your coins,” she called over her shoulder.

“Lanna! Lanna, where am I going to find someone to take over? It’s packed out there! Come back! I’ll let you keep all the tips.”

Lanna spun around and walked backwards so she could glare at him. “Here’s a tip; respect your help.”

She was fuming as she stormed out of the back of the bar and into the rain. It had started up not long ago and plastered her long coconut locks to her neck and shoulders in seconds. She could hear John shouting after her, but she didn’t bother to spare him a second glance. The job made her too ill and tried at her nerves too much. However badly she needed the money, it wasn’t worth the risks. She needed to keep control.

She made it halfway down the hill before she remembered she was holding her cloak. She was already soaked, but she shook it out and pulled it over her shoulders and the hood up over her head. As soon as its weight settled against her, she felt better. She never felt fully secure unless she was wearing it.

She sniffled and lifted a hand to smear away some of the rainwater that was running over her face. Part of her blurred vision was from the rain, but a fair bit of it was tears too. The work had sucked, the environment even more so, but there were only a few places to work in the tiny hole of a town, and she needed the money desperately.

She couldn’t migrate much further or she would start to run too close to another city, and the more into the open lands beyond their borders she went, the more sparse civilization became.

More than once, she’d considered simply taking off into the wilds and never bothering with people again. It would be safer, easier in many ways, but just thinking about it made her throat close. There were other reasons why that was dangerous, and it would only be a short-term solution. Her only true hope was to ship across the ocean to the lands beyond, but she needed half a fortune for that, and her years of scraping and saving every penny had only brought her halfway to that.

She was running out of time and had just lost another opportunity for work. Perhaps she should go back. She could swallow her pride and dignity and apologize to John and Pete. John would take her back – no one else was as willing to work and he needed the hired help – but she knew that was becoming too much of a risk. The patrons of the bar got handsier every night that she worked, and she wasn’t sure she could maintain control if their behaviour got much worse. She would have to figure something else out.

She crossed her arms over her chest for warmth and continued trudging away from the bar towards the outskirts of town. As she walked, she closed her eyes against the wind and water blowing into her face. She hated closing her eyes, especially when she was upset. It made it worse. In the darkness behind her eyelids, fire danced. Explosions and deafening roars and shouts of too many people. The air clogged with fire and smoke while blood pooled at her feet.

The overwhelming stenches of blood, festering rot, mud and old straw, and so much death. The feeling of heavy shackles that rubbed her joints and weighed her down. The way the links clinked together. She shivered. She rolled her shoulders and ground her teeth together to suppress a whine.

It was all she saw, all the time. She didn’t even know who she was anymore. It was too much to bear.

Her throat closed and her stomach lurched, and she doubled over as she began to wretch. What little she’d nibbled at through the day came back up into the muck.

Lanna’s head spun and she sunk to her knees and dug her fingers into the earth. Her skin felt too tight and she felt caged all over again. She needed to get away, but she couldn’t. She was shackled by new manacles, just as heavy and painful, but invisible to the eye, and the only key was still held so agonizingly far out of her reach.

She just wanted to go home. Her heart ached as she dug deep down into her heart to pull the memories. The fresh smell of wet pine after a morning misting, the sight of the sunrise bathing the mountainside in morning light. She remembered the wind, and foraging berries and mushrooms among the thick trunks of forever trees. The taste of slightly charred meat hung on her tongue and all the nights she’d lay in the dust outside their shelter and watch the stars twinkle while a meal lay heavy in her swollen belly. She had been so young, but her memory was long.

It was easy to forget, for these precious bits to be drowned in the sea of fire and pain that came after, but she kept what she had close to her heart and swore she would see it all again someday, no matter what it took.

She had buried pieces of herself to keep them safe. More than just memories and feelings. She’d had to shove down everything she was. She had hidden in the small towns for so many years, moving on as she had to, always hiding, always on the run. She just wanted a taste of freedom, to be herself without fear of her past repeating. She’d been Lanna for so long, but it was only a part of who she was. She missed herself.

Her long-buried heart stirred then, begged for a chance to surface, but she was afraid. It had been so long, she knew it would hurt to bring it all out again. She couldn’t remember the last time anymore, what it felt like. Everything was all a blur of working and stressing and suppressing nightmares.

“Aja, be still,” she whispered. It hurt to swallow back. Felt like a hot poker was being rammed through her belly as she wrestled with a skin that suddenly felt too small, too confining. She wanted out.

Tears swam in her eyes and she beat a fist against the ground. She was running out of time. It was getting hard and harder to move and speak and exist this way. Every secret she was keeping would spill and with it would come unbearable pain and fear and suffering. She needed to be far, far away when her hourglass ran dry. A sob ripped from her lips and her heart lurched. She hated being this way, hated everything that had happened since she’d been ripped from her home.

She had not been taken alone. Many of her people had been stolen away from the land they’d always known. Tied and beaten and thrown in cages, carted across the seas to endure the horrors of war and labour and abuse at the hands of others who did not understand them or care for their suffering or their lives. Many had died. She had still been practically a baby at the time, and her lack of strength had spared her some of the terrors, but she had seen everything. She’d watched her family burn. Her father in a genuine blaze, her sister almost a generation older dropped from too many blows, her brother taken away. She did not know if he was alive.

She had looked for him in the years since, but had never heard or seen anything of him and doubted she ever would.

She wasn’t the only one to escape, but she had been too young to keep up with the others. None were her blood or from her immediate homeland and she had been left behind. On her own since, she knew they were being hunted. They would always be hunted simply for who they were. Her captors would want her back. On the verge of coming into herself, she was more valuable now than she was as a baby. It was why she had to keep hidden, keep her emotions under control, not draw attention to herself.

It was why she introduced herself as Lanna. Her name was too foreign to go unnoticed. Not that they had ever cared her name, wouldn’t have known it, but it was unlike anything the people of this land used and she could not take the risk of that holding meaning to the wrong individuals. Everything she was felt fake. A secret wrapped in a lie and buried beneath a carefully-crafted disguise.

She pulled her cloak tighter against her body and hummed. She felt a little better wrapped in it. She fingered the fabric and examined it closely. The outside was a simple, dulled brown. As unassuming as she needed to be. But inside, it was lined with vibrant blue and bordered in violet. It was her most precious possession, one of the few she had. She didn’t care for material things. Attachments were dangerous when she worried she would have to flee for her life at any given moment. If she couldn’t carry it on her person at almost all times, she didn’t keep it.

She clenched her jaw and carefully rose from the dirt. The world was still pelting her with icy rain and frigid wind, but she barely felt it now. She would have to move on again. She had no other choice. She wasn’t sure what else was out there for her, but she did know that there was not enough work in this small mining village. She needed something more substantial and less risky, and she didn’t have a lot of time to find it. After being on her feet all day, curling up in slumber’s embrace sounded wonderful, but she had a long trek ahead of her and she may as well get started.

Setting her gaze on the hills beyond the town, she set out down the trodden dirt road leading away from this place. Ajalana felt like a ghost as she left. She had no one to tell that she was going and would simply disappear. By the next new moon, she doubted anyone here would even remember Lanna’s name.


	2. The Road is Long

It was safer to have a fire during the day. At night, the light was easier to see, and so long as there was little smoke, a small blaze would go unnoticed under the afternoon sun. People tended to frown on someone travelling alone, especially a young woman. It made them suspicious, so Ajalana wanted to stay as off the radar as possible. She sat close to the tiny campfire she’d made, enjoying the way the extra warmth bounced off her skin. Her face felt rosy and flushed from the flames, but she loved the sensation.

She twisted the spit that held her skewered meal. She’d trapped a squirrel and skinned the pelt away, and now the meat was sizzling on the tiny open flame. Aja licked her lips and her belly rumbled with anticipation. She knew the meat would be stringy, but she would never turn her nose up at a meal, and she always found an open flame to be the best means of cooking meat.

There was a time when she was previously on the run when she wouldn’t have bothered. She’d have simply scarfed what she could raw and kept moving, but she had a feeling that would make her sick now – it had been too long since then and her stomach was no longer adjusted to it – so she forced herself to stop and prepare her catch properly.

She’d left the small mining town of Dudlud several sunrises ago. She had lived there for quite a few moons that she was surprised how easy it was to slip back into survival mode. Despite having to constantly watch her back and fend for herself, she was more at peace now than she had been there. She had never felt comfortable in Dudlud. The people there were hardy and gritty, and while she applauded their perseverance, she knew any one of them would have sold her out for any small price. Each was out for themselves. It would have only been a matter of time before something bad happened to her there.

She’d been keeping within sight of the road as she walked to avoid losing her bearings, but only walked directly on it when the terrain became too rugged not to. Even a twisted ankle could be devastating to her out on her own like this.

The carcass was slightly charred around the edges when she finally lifted it free of the fire. She didn’t bother waiting for it to cool before sinking her teeth in. She hummed with satisfaction as the juices ran down her chin, and she tore into the meal as quickly as she could. She picked carefully around all the slender bones, and then licked her fingers clean.

She didn’t want to linger too much longer, so she rose and dusted off her hands and pants before kicking some sand over the tiny fire. It snuffed easily enough.

She grabbed the one small pack of supplies she had and slung it over her shoulder so that it disappeared beneath the folds of her cloak. She preferred to travel light, but she always kept a small bag of essential supplies hidden on the outskirts of whatever town she chose to dwell in for the time, just in case she needed to make a fast getaway.

The sun was climbing higher in the sky. Soon it would be directly overhead and scorching, but Lanna didn’t mind. She would in a while after trudging under it, but the warmth would be appreciated at least a little. She still had a chill from walking the other night in the rain. She’d always found herself hardier than the people around her when it came to the elements, but even she had limits and wanted to ward off as much cold as she could. Getting sick would be a painful annoyance.

As she walked, the ground began getting rocky and uneven, so she reluctantly placed herself closer to the road until she was walking directly alongside it. The countryside seemed mostly peaceful and still, however. She wasn’t surprised, given the soil didn’t seem great for farming given how uneven the terrain was.

A few birds were chirping in the distance and some small rodents snuffling about in the grasses, but otherwise, the wind was Lanna’s only companion. She didn’t mind the relative silence. It was far nicer than the auditory bombardment Dudlud’s pub tended to be. She began to hum softly to herself as she maintained a calm, brisk pace down the path. She would feel even more secure drifting a bit further from the road once the ground levelled out enough for it to be safe to do so, but she was content for now.

***

While the late morning had been calm, Lanna found herself growing increasingly stressed as the afternoon stretched. It was hot, she was thirsty, and though she could not yet see it, she could hear an approaching wagon from over the next hill, but the terrain was too rocky to veer away from the path and out of sight. And even if it were less treacherous, she would likely draw more attention rushing away from the road than she would simply walking on it. But it made her feel penned in and her heart was hammering in her chest with every passing moment.

It was still another few steps forward before the wagon crested the far hill. It was too late to duck away, they would be able to see her now, so she just lowered her gaze and kept walking calmly forward like she had an intended destination. Hopefully, they wouldn’t bother her.

The wagon was being pulled by a single gray mule plodding along at a simple pace. There was a man perched at the front holding the reins, along with a heavily pregnant woman and a young boy that Lanna would have pegged to be six or seven years old. Barely more than an infant himself, she supposed. She hoped they would simply keep going and not bother with her.

The mule snorted and pawed at the ground with a hoof as she got closer. It lurched to a stop and the man gave a firm snap of the reins and a verbal command, but the beast of burden refused to budge. Lanna gritted her teeth. She hated prey animals. They always made such a fuss around her and she hated it.

“Stupid beast,” the man muttered as he snapped the reins again. “Oh. Hello. You alright there, Miss?”

Lanna tensed as he addressed her. She’d politely stepped further off the edge of the path to give them a berth. Reluctantly, she raised her gaze and forced a smile. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

“Oh, bless…she’s just a girl,” the woman commented. “Where are you headed, hon?”

Lanna shook her head. “I’m older than I look,” she protested softly. “And I’m fine. I’m just heading to the next town.”

The man clucked his tongue and shook his head. “Runscow’s a long trek in this heat,” he commented. “Why don’t you hop in? We’ve just come from Prewport, heading up to Durgon to make a delivery and then we’ll be turning around. If you don’t mind an extension to your journey, it’ll save you the legwork and we’ll drop you off.”

Lanna tensed. Durgon was not a place she wanted to go to. She’d passed through once and it had been terrible. There was nothing inherently wrong with Durgon to the naked eye. It was clean and wealthier, and the people polite. But it was also very close to one of the cities and very suspicious of strangers. Lanna wanted to avoid areas like that as much as possible. She glanced up at the man who’d made the offer. It was kind of him, and he seemed like the kindly sort. He was stout, with a bit of a potbelly and twinkling chocolate eyes, and a thick, curly red moustache. Lanna was not very trusting of people, but as far as they went, this family seemed decent enough.

“That’s a very generous offer,” Lanna began. She chose her words very carefully. “But I’ll be alright. I’m just going to keep heading straight ahead.”

“Oh, hon, are you sure?” the woman pressed. Lanna shifted her gaze from the man to her. She had short blonde hair and pale skin and was tucked under a simple brown shawl. She had a bright smile and Lanna found herself drawn even more to this woman. She smelled nice. She was wreathed in the aroma of cookies. Lanna loved cookies. They were a taste and smell she had never experienced before being brought to this land, and she could say for certain that it was one of the few things she genuinely enjoyed here. “If you walk, it will be dark well before you reach Runscow. Come with us. There’s a detour, sure, but we’ll have you there before nightfall. This hillside is no place to be stumbling around in the dark.”

Once again, Lanna shook her head. “You needn’t worry yourself. I’ll be fine. But your generosity is appreciated.”

“Not keen on going backwards, huh?” the man hummed. “You in some sort of trouble?”

“No trouble,” Lanna replied. “Just hard to look back when you’re running from a ghost is all. Thank you, but I’ll take my chances.” It had been such a foreign statement to Lanna the first few times she’d heard it, but she’d come to learn it simply meant trying to leave behind something painful or tragic and forge a new identity. Lanna supposed she had been running from a ghost for a very, very long time now.

As though she’d said magical words, the man seemed to forget his and his wife’s earlier insistence that she tag along, because he simply nodded and scooped up the mule’s reins again. “Can’t argue with that. Tell you what-” He broke off to rummage in a sack beside him. He pulled out a dented canteen and offered it to her. “Take some water, you’re going to need it by noon. If we meet up with you on the way back, you can give it back and we’ll give you a lift the rest of the way.”

Their kindness was touching. Despite her ingrained aversion to people, Lanna smiled softly and nodded. She stepped forward – ignoring how their mule snorted nervously as she did – and gingerly accepted the gift. “Thank you,” she murmured.

The man nodded. “Best of luck to you, kid. Be safe and stick to the road. You’re coming up on some craggy terrain and the path’s the only sure stable ground. I imagine we’ll run back into you before dusk.”

Lanna only nodded before he flicked the reins and they were off. Their mule seemed more than happy to spur into motion now that it was past her, and the small family was back on their way, leaving her with only a softly settling dust cloud for company.

Lanna glanced down at the canteen still cradled in her hands. It was nicer than she’d expect from strangers. Most folk she ran into would look out for their own and avoid risking interaction with a stranger. Resources could be precious in rural areas. There wasn’t much to go around and Lanna respected their reasons for being reluctant to share. But these few had been more than just happy to help, they’d behaved as though that was the expected normal. She’d never heard of Prewport, but she began to wonder what sort of place it must be to breed such natural generosity.

She slung the strap of the container over one shoulder and continued on her way. She began to relax from her initial scare and sighed. While she knew she should avoid running into the family a second time, she was almost rueful of it. She might have almost enjoyed the company. But regardless of any fleeting desires, she might have, it was safest to avoid people she met on the road. She had never allowed herself to get close to anyone before – there was too much risk between familiarity and attachment to bother – she did not want to put herself through any heartache when she inevitably moved on. Even if she wasn’t racing a clock, she would never have been able to settle permanently in any populated place. Making friends wasn’t an option, so she interacted politely where she had to, and kept her distance otherwise.

The family would become nothing more than a memory; a small spot of warmth she would remember fondly from time to time.

***

It was frustrating when all she wanted to do was veer clear of the winding path entirely, but just as the family had predicted, Lanna’s surroundings only grew more treacherous the further she walked. The sun had passed its peak and was beginning its gradual descent through the sky, and she had a sinking feeling they would catch back up to her soon. She was reluctant to ride with them but had yet to think of an acceptable excuse to refuse after the kindness they’d already shown her.

It felt especially poor of her to reject any further aid when she clearly worried them and they had helped her. The afternoon had been dizzyingly hot. The heat wavered in the air and had blurred her vision. Even now, it had barely cooled and Lanna had not run into any water as she’d anticipated. She was out of practice. Her survival skills were usually much sharper than this, and she’d found herself lapping fervently from the canteen more than once.

Her legs were beginning to ache as she trekked up the continuous incline the road had taken. The countryside had been quiet for a while now, but Lanna could hear the faint clopping of hooves against dirt and suspected she would have company again shortly. She hoped it was the family and their skittish mule and not some new traveller she’d have to interact with.

It was the family, however. Their mule skirted her and brayed softly as it was pulled to a stop. It would be rude and suspicious to just keep walking – and she still had their canteen – so she stopped and made reluctant eye contact.

“Have any problems through the afternoon?” the man queried as he looked down at her from his perch on the wagon.

Lanna shook her head and stepped closer. The mule snorted and stomped the ground, and its ears flattened. Lanna wasn’t sure if the family noticed its behaviour or not, but she wanted to snarl at it.

She slung the canteen off her shoulder and offered it back to the man. “Thank you for sharing. It was both needed and appreciated.”

He took the container back with a nod and set it aside before beckoning. “Hop in, hon, we’ll drop you off.”

“You do not have to do that; I am fine,” Lanna assured them. “I do not wish to put you out.”

“Oh, there’s more than enough room and we’ll be passing straight through the next town,” the woman countered. She stretched out a hand. “Get in, I won’t take no for an answer. You’re practically a scrap, your weight will be no extra burden on Turk – you probably weigh half of what the delivery load we just dropped was. It’s no trouble and it wouldn’t be right to leave you alone on the side of the road like this. Don’t be shy,” she urged.

Lanna sighed and caved. It would be nice to get off her feet, and if she had to run, she was fairly certain she could outpace them. It would be too difficult to get the cart turned around on the narrow path to be worth pursuing her. “This is very kind of you,” she acknowledged as she stepped closer. She braced her hands on the wall of the wagon and boosted herself up. The inside was lined with a thin blanket of straw, and she gingerly nestled down onto it. “Are you sure it’s alright?”

The woman beamed brightly and nodded. She had one hand draped on her swollen belly and the other arm wrapped around the young boy tucked up against her side. He had his mother’s bright blonde hair, and a face full of freckles, and was eyeing her curiously. “What’s your name, hon?” she inquired.

Lanna chewed her lip. “Lanna,” she introduced finally. Though it was her identity, a sense of bitterness rose again in her gut as she gave the name.

The woman’s smile brightened further and she dipped her head. “That’s a lovely name. Mine’s Heather, and this is my son, Ben,” she introduced. Her hand lifted to plop down onto the boy’s head and ruffle his hair. He ducked away from her with a squeal of protest between giggles. “And my husband up front there is Carter.”

Carter twisted in his seat and tipped the wide-brimmed straw hat he was wearing in her general direction before turning back and snapping the mule’s reins. As the cart lurched into motion, Lanna drew her knees up to her chest and tried to force a smile so they wouldn’t see how uncomfortable she felt.

“So, Lanna,” Carter spoke up after a few moments of silence. “Where do you hail from?”

“Nowhere really,” Lanna replied carefully. She shrugged when Heather tilted her head at the statement. “I’ve been on the move for a long time now. I was in Dudlud for a while, but I’ve been all over. I guess I just haven’t found home yet,” she explained. It was as close to the truth as she was willing to give out.

“You think Runscow might be the place, then?” Carter inquired.

Lanna shrugged. “I didn’t have a specific destination in mind this morning,” she admitted. “I’m just heading south to see what there is. I don’t know the area well, I was just planning to walk until I hit the next town.”

“That’s a bit of a dangerous plan,” Heather commented. “You don’t look like you’re carrying much; what if the next settlement was weeks off?”

“I’ve gotten used to making do off the land.”

Lanna watched the two exchange a look, but neither of them seemed to have anything to say in response to her comment. Her heart drummed in her head and she suddenly began to question if she’d said something wrong. Were they going to get suspicious of her? She knew not many people tended to take to the wilds the way she was comfortable, but surely having basic survival skills wasn’t a sign of something amiss.

Carter cleared his throat and began to speak again. “Do you know what you’re looking for?”

“Pardon?”

Carter shrugged. “Most roaming folk tend to be searching for something; it’s why they wander. What are you looking for?”

Lanna shrugged. “Just work at the moment,” she stated. “Whatever I can get, wherever I have to get it.”

Heather’s gaze twinkled with further curiosity, and Lanna tensed under the woman’s attention. Then Heather shook her head and smiled. “Well, Runscow is primarily pastures. They're known for their dairy and poultry products. We do business there a lot, but it’s heavy livestock work. You like animals?”

“Not particularly,” Lanna lamented. She winced. She’d been hoping there’d be something else, but short of possibly finding another small pub, it sounded like she’d be moving on from there as well. “And they do not seem to like me much either.”

“You have better chances of work opportunities in the city,” Carter suggested. “If you travel south-east from Runscow, you’ll find yourself in the city of Dover in a week or so.”

Heather must have seen Lanna’s paled reaction because she frowned and shook her head. “You don’t strike me as someone who would do well in the city,” she stated with a warm smile. “Why don’t you come back to Prewport with us? It’s a port town so it’s bigger and busier than some of the hamlets like Dudlud, lots more opportunities for work, but far more casual than the rigid city rules. Nice views too, sunrise over the water still takes my breath away.”

Her young son crawled out from his mother’s embrace and practically threw himself across Lanna’s lap. It surprised her and she jumped – nearly tossing him – but he only grinned up at her. “You could come live at the bakery with us!” he exclaimed.

“The bakery?” Lanna repeated. She supposed it made sense that this family ran a pastry shop. It would explain the sweet, floury aroma they all carried.

“We have been thinking about hiring some help,” Heather mused. “With the baby on the way, I’m not good for much at the moment and Ben’s too young still; Carter can’t do everything alone. It would involve some lifting; flour’s heavier than it looks, and some deliveries around town and the hours can be quite long on busy days, but we’ve got a spare room upstairs that we could fix up too if you need a place to stay.”

“That sounds lovely. I’m a bit stronger than I appear, I don’t mind hard work, but I don’t know much about baked goods. I can cook meat over the open fire in a pinch, but anything with more finesse escapes me. I never really learned.”

Carter waved a hand. “We can teach you, and I can handle most of the actual baking. Heather still decorates. Really, I could just use the spare hands moving supplies, running deliveries, and managing the counter.”

“I’ve always tended to learn quickly,” Lanna agreed. “And it sounds amazing, but it is far too generous. You’ve already done more for me than you ever needed to.” She was genuinely touched. She’d lived among the people of this land for years, struggled to make her own way and kept her distance. She’d met good people and bad people, but never before had such kindness come from those she’d just met. She found herself more relaxed around them than she’d ever been with people before.

A port town sounded busier than she’d like, but it might make it easier to blend, and it also would make pricing out a voyage easier.

“Consider it a mutually beneficial relationship then,” Carter stated. “We need a hard worker, you need work and a place to stay.”

Lanna nodded. She wanted to accept, for more than just out of a need to find employment quickly. “I can work hard,” she agreed. “But I’m not…the most reliable long term. I’ve never been very good about staying in one place for very long.”

Heather smiled. “You have a wanderer’s heart. That’s fine. You give us a day’s notice if you can and there’ll be no strings attached.”

“Please!” Ben begged from her lap. His lips pulled up into a toothy grin. “I’ll let you be my friend.”

“Just accept,” Carter advised over his shoulder. “Heather fancies saving lost souls and she’s not going to let you go now, so you might as well save yourself the trouble.”

Lanna brought a hand to her mouth as she chuckled softly. Her heart ached at the offer. She did want it. A bakery sounded like a lovely place. Sweet smells instead of grease and smoke, a counter separating her from patrons who were far less likely to make drunk passes anyway, with no strings and kinder business owners. It sounded like the perfect means of settling until she had no choice but to leave. “Alright,” she agreed. “I accept.” She added a quiet ‘thank you’ but it was most likely drowned out by Ben’s excited squeal.


End file.
